Sam Leaves
by Ms Trillbatin
Summary: Story shows the argument between Sam and John Winchester, how it comes about what happens, whats said etc


Sam folded up the letter and shoved it in the motel desk, just as Dean barged into their room.

"Dude, five minutes then we're taking off. We gotta salt those bones, then burn 'em. Usual gig, you coming?"

"Uh…I got some stuff to do, you two go…" Dean frowned at his brother,

"Man, you haven't been on a hunt in ages, you gotta get back in the game or you'll be outta practice when we find the demon." Sam resisted rolling his eyes, _the demon_, it was all anyone ever talked about. What about living a normal life, how about getting a steady job, or a girlfriend or…going to college…

"I'll be fine, just go. Hurry up or Dad'll fry your ass." Dean stared at him a moment and Sam had the feeling he was seeing straight through to his heart, but next second Dean had shrugged and shut the door behind him. When Sam heard the front door of the motel go, he pulled the printed email back out of the desk.

_Samuel Winchester,_

_After careful consideration, and as a result of your interview on the 15th of January, we would like to offer you a scholarship to study English Literature and Law at Stanford University. Attached to this email you will find information regarding the terms of the scholarship, and information on how to accept or decline our offer. We look foreword to hearing from you and hope that you will be studying with us next month._

Sam rubbed at his tired eyes, it wasn't everyday Stanford handed out scholarships. This was his chance to get a job, live a normal life. There was one problem…his Dad. And he didn't exactly think Dean would be too happy either. It was a tough decision but he knew deep down, what he wanted, he wanted to go, it was as simple as that.

Sam jumped awake as the door of the motel slammed shut.

"Sammy?" came Dean's voice, "We're back." He called,

"Hey…" Sam called from their room. He got up and walked into the living room where Dean and John Winchester were dumping their bags of ammo and weapons. Sam knew there was no time like the present, he was just trying to work up the courage. John Winchester sat at the small dining table in the corner with a medi-pack and began dressing a cut on his forearm. Dean slumped in the chair in front of the tv and was soon dosing. Sam walked over to his Dad, taking a deep breath. John Winchester looked up at his youngest son,

"You ok, Sammy? You look a bit…jumpy." He asked,

"Yeah…I'm ok. How was the hunt?" John Winchester shrugged,

"Pretty normal really. Not a particularly powerful spirit…" he gave Sam a calculating look, "What's on your mind, son?" The youngest Winchester looked away uncomfortably,

"It's just when you and Dean were out on a hunt in January, I took dean's car and I…I went to Stanford…for an interview…" John Winchester's face betrayed no emotion, except for his eyes, there was a look in his eyes like an animal being backed into a corner, pitiful, yet deadly if provoked…

"Dad, I got in. On a full scholarship, you won't have to pay anything…It's a law and English degree…I…I'm gonna go…" Dean walked up behind him. Sam didn't even know he'd got off the chair in front of the tv.

"You're going to go…" John Winchester repeated in a deep voice, Sam's nerve almost broke,

"Yes, Sir." He answered, "I'm going."

"You're leaving?" Dean cried incredulously, "You're going off to college? Sam, you _can't_ we need you!" Sam spun to face his brother,

"Dean this isn't what I want! I WANT to be normal, I WANT to be innocent and ignorant of all that stuff we see everyday! I wanna be a lawyer and settle down with a nice girl or something!" Dean shook his head,

"You can't _ever_ be inncocent or ignorant, it's too _late_ Sammy! You _know_ what's out there! You can't just _erase_ those memories!"

"You can go." John Winchester muttered, effectively ending Sam and Dean's argument. Both boy's turned to their father,

"What?" They asked in unison,

"I said, you can go, Sam."

"Really?" Sam smiled, joy filling him from the bottom up, "Dad-" but his father interrupted him,

"But, if you abandon your brother and me…if you leave us? You stay gone." Sam stared at him, he didn't know what to say,

"Dad…" Dean began, "Come on, man…"

"Stay out of this, Dean…" his father ordered,

"You mean, if I go to college, I can't ever come back?" Sam repeated, incredulously, "You don't want me back?" John Winchester stared at him, hard,

"You're the one abandoning us, Sam, not the other way around." It was then that Sam's 'Winchester temper' began boiling,

"Fine." He spat, "If that's what you want, just 'cause I don't want this life? Just 'cause I won't fall into line behind you like Dean does? If that's what you want, then ok. I'm leaving. Tonight, and I won't be back!" John Winchester stood up abruptly from the table,

"Yeah? You do that! I thought you were my son, but you're no son of mine, not if you can just abandon your father, your brother, if that's how much we mean to you, then we're better off without you!" Sam choked as though he'd been winded, he could feel the tears welling in his eyes, through anger and pain, and sadness. He turned away from his father, to look his brother in the eye. Dean looked like he didn't know what to do, his eye's betrayed his fear, his desperation to make Sam stay, but his belief in everything his father said causing an internal struggle in the young man. Sam tried to smile at his brother, to let him know he didn't blame him, that he understood, but it wouldn't come. So he slowly walked passed him and into the motel bedroom that he shared with Dean. As he shut the door he let go, the tears slipped from his eyes and he gasped. His Dad hadn't said anything like that before, and now it was too late. He got what he wanted didn't he? He was going to college. What did he expect, for his Dad to pat him on the head and congratulate him? No way, he knew he'd never get his father's blessing. If he wanted to go to college, this was how things had to be. Sam defiantly wiped his eyes, and then began stuffing his small amount of possessions in his bag. Including his portable laptop, a thousand Christmas presents worth from Dean. The fact that he'd stolen it…well…Sam glanced around the room, there was nothing left. He checked his phone and wallet were in his pocket. He took a deep breath and headed out of the room. He glanced into the living room where Dean was talking quietly to his Dad. As soon as he saw Sam, he jumped up and crossed the room swiftly. John Winchester refused to look up, refused to acknowledge the fact that his youngest son, was about to leave. For good, apparently. Dean was standing in front of him, and Sam drew his sight away from his father and sighed, looking at his brother.

"Take care, Sammy." Dean murmured, "Check in regularly ok?" He ordered, pulling Sam into a rough hug, slapping his back

"Sure, Dean." Sam conceded, though he knew he wouldn't. If his Dad didn't want him, then he wouldn't try and crawl back into his good books. He'd make it on his own, no matter how painful it would be. Sam took one last look at the side of his Dad's head and then flung the door to the outside world open, not bothering to shut it on his way out. _Next stop… Stanford…_


End file.
